


Worship

by Colourcubify



Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Eye Contact, Eye Sex, Face-Fucking, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, God Complex, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Internal Conflict, Light Sadism, Light can't decide whether to kill L or kiss him, Light just really loves/hates L's eyes, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Shameless Smut, aggressive Light, in which Light has a complex about L, obedient L
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colourcubify/pseuds/Colourcubify
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light knows it's all coming to an end, one way or another, but he'll be damned if he lets L win. Based off the foot massage scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worship

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I finally finished watching the Death Note anime, and couldn't help but see the sexual tension in this scene, so I had to let it out. Almost all of the dialogue is directly from the dubbed anime.

“Well, that was certainly an unpleasant outing,”

L's smooth voice cut through the stillness of the stairwell. The cool surface of the stairs chilled Light through his sodden clothes. His whole body felt cold, a side effect that he should have guessed before he followed L onto the rooftop. The single towel L had retrieved for him was already damp throughout, and his hair still clung to his scalp with water.

“Its your own fault,” he replied, eyes closed, “I mean, what did you expect?” Light continued his near futile attempt at drying his hair. For how smart L was, he sometimes didn't think through his actions at all. He was impulsive; risky.

“You're right,” L admitted, “I'm sorry.”

Light paused at the contriteness in the other man's voice. It wasn't like L to admit his mistakes, or to even make them in the first place. What was with him today? He'd been acting even stranger than usual, and Light was suspicious.

Soft footsteps brought him out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes to see L crouched on the step before him, those hooded eyes gazing up at him. Light always felt as if they could see right through him, straight to his secrets. He knew L suspected him of being Kira, even if he had no proof. Those dark eyes just screamed their knowledge to Light, almost taunting him.

Suddenly, L grasped one of Light's feet. He jolted, surprised. A quick intake of breath betrayed his shock to the other man.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, eyes wide.

“I thought I might help you out,” L replied silkily, gazing up at Light knowingly. “You were busy wiping yourself off anyways.” L Swept the towel lightly over Light's foot, soft as a caress. His damned eyes burned into Light. He wanted to gouge them out with his own two hands (they would probably still be so _fucking_ all knowing).

“Look,” Light started, “It's fine. You don't have to do that,” He needed the other man's hands off of him. He wasn't sure what he would do, but his fingers itched to do _something_.

L smirked up at him, as if reading his thoughts. “I can give you a massage as well,” he told Light, “It's the least I can do to atone for my _sins_.”

Light scowled. The bastard was mocking his Godlike status. As much as he wanted to end this nuisance's life right here on these steps, he needed to stay his hand. He'd pay soon enough. They all would. But for now, he may as well enjoy this. Light had pictured this scenario enough times: L on his knees before him, worshipping him for the God he truly was. For some reason it had always been more enjoyable to picture L in that position than anyone else.

“I'm actually pretty good at this,”

L's voice brought Light out of his head once more. Fine. If L wanted to play this game with him, then let them play. He certainly would not lose.

“Fine, do what you want,” he told the long haired man. They met eyes long enough for L to send him a ghost of a smile, then Light looked away. The fingers on his foot began to press more tightly, coming and going in long, firm strokes. He gasped quietly, unable to hold it in. A huff of breath came from L, and Light eventually registered it as a laugh. This fool was _laughing_ at him (how dare he, he should tear out his tongue). Indignantly, he tried to pull his foot away, only to have L's hands clasp harder.

“Where do you think you're going?” The fingers slid higher, moving onto Light's calf, still massaging steadily. A spike of something shot through Light, almost like a shiver, but centrally located in his lower gut. His eyes narrowed, shooting back to L. The other man was diligently staring at his task, every inch the picture of innocence. What a joke. Even now, the hands were rising up his leg, nearly at his knee now. A droplet of water darkened his pants, reminding him of L's condition. Frowning, he grabbed his discarded towel and reached forward to dry the other man's hair.

“Here,” he said, “You're still soaked.” Light's hand squeezed the locks with perhaps more force than was necessary. He had a sudden longing to grip that shaggy hair and pull it, just to see the expression L would make; to hear the sound that would be ripped from his throat. He brought his hand back quickly, shocked at his own thoughts.

“I'm sorry,” L replied, fingers losing some of their pressure as they trailed up Light's thigh. He gasped at the contact, not expecting his leg to feel so sensitive. L tipped his head up at the sound, his face expressionless. He repeated the motion, twice, all while staring into Light's soul. Light could feel his face warming, and the odd feeling in his gut intensified. L suddenly switched legs, and the new contact pulled almost a whine from Light. He was mortified. He had never made a sound like that before. L's face appeared victorious, heightening the embarrassment all the more.

“Did that feel nice, Light?” L asked, his fingers never stopping, his eyes still burning.

“B—bastard,” Light retorted, face more flushed than he could ever recall. One hand dipped to his inner thigh, the pressure almost bruising in intensity. Light bit his lip to keep from making any more sounds. Dammit, he was losing this game!

L tsked, suddenly removing his hands altogether.

“Now Light,” he chided, his face closer to Light's than he had ever been, “It's no fun if I can't hear your side of things.” Those hands were suddenly touching Light's hair, his face, roaming around as if mapping it. One carded through his hair, while the other traced his jaw. Light wasn't quite sure what was happening anymore. He felt out of his element, and damn the fact that it was L making it so.

“What are you doing?” Light asked, voice shaking almost imperceptively. L sighed.

“Come now, Light. You're a smart boy,” L admonished before crushing their lips together. Light froze, his mind blank. Was this really happening? Was this what their game had become? He had always known there to be tension between them, but Light would have never assumed it to be sexual. Though it did cause certain reactions to make sense: the sensitivity of his body, his vocalities, the absolute _rush_ of arousal (yes, he could place it now) heading to his groin. He could feel L's tongue tracing his lower lip; feel his hand lightly pulling his hair. Perhaps this had been what it had been leading up to all along. This battle of wits had been no more than a pretty disguise for something much more primal.

Opening his mouth, Light began kissing back, his own hands raising to touch his foe. For they were still enemies, and would always be. No amount of sexual desire would change that. They were on two separate sides of the coin. Light grasped L's lip in his teeth and bit until blood swelled into the kiss. He lapped at the wound greedily, revelling in the taste he might never again sense. He could feel L groaning into his mouth, egging him on.

Light fisted L's hair (that _fucking_ hair) and wrenched him away to look at his handiwork. L's lips were bruised and bleeding still, and his hair was even more of a mess than usual. The best was those eyes, always so sharp, clouded over with lust. Light revelled in the sight of L brought down to this. He saw L's tongue sweep quickly over his lips, almost as if tasting his blood himself.

L leaned back onto his heels, but Light's hand in his hair stopped him from going too far. He was back in control of this game, and L knew it. A hint of pleading came into his eyes amid the lust, and Light could sense where he wanted to go. He nodded loftily at the other man, allowing his movement, yet restricting him by his hair still, like a dog on a tight leash. L's hands slid down to his hips and set to work undoing his pants. Light had never been so aroused before, and his erection felt hard enough to explode. He could see that L was in the same position, and raised his foot to apply some pressure.

A strangled moan came from L, and Light almost laughed in victory. The other man had paused momentarily after the initial contact, but was back to his previous task almost instantly. Soon, Light felt the cool air on his cock and knew that L had succeeded. Light clenched his toes on L's bulge, rewarding him for his efforts. L dropped his head forward, keening softly. Light clucked his tongue at him.

“Come now, L,” he mocked, viciously tugging at his hair to bring his head up again. He watched L pry open his eyes and gaze intently at his cock. L's warm breath over it caused it to twitch. Almost daintily compared to the rest of their session, L lapped his tongue up the length of it, swirling around the head. Light sighed contentedly, loosening his grip in L's hair ever so slightly. He began a rhythm with his toes over L's length.

“Light,” L gasped, releasing the member he had been so carefully attending to. Light stopped his motions, causing L to groan at the loss of contact.

“You know what to do,” was all Light replied. L nodded slightly, taking the head into his mouth again and sucking. Light marvelled at the sensation, having never before felt it this intense. L's head dipped farther down, taking more of the hard length into the hot cavern of his mouth. Light groaned appreciatively and began ministrations with his foot once more. His hand in L's hair aided with the rhythm, and he felt his hips thrusting up to meet him. It wasn't enough though (would it ever be after this?). Light thrust up while pressing L's head down, forcing his cock into the man's throat. It was the most glorious feeling he had ever had. He was entirely in power, with L gagging around him and rutting helplessly into his foot. He could feel L's throat convulsing around him, almost milking him.

He released the pressure, allowing L to pull back for a breath, then repeated it numerous times. His eyes met L's, seeing the tears and the lust intermingling, and knew that he had never before, and would never again, see such a sight. If Light could stop to immortalize this moment, he would. This was almost better than his work as Kira (though if he could keep both, he would, _fuck_ he would), and he could picture them in a different world, where neither of them had to lose in the end; where they could be like this every day, ruthlessly, passionately. He would take L in every way imaginable, fucking every part of him, mind, body, soul, until L was nothing but a shell of a person (but those eyes would still be the same, still be so _damned_ knowing), bound to him forever.

Light could feel his orgasm approaching, and from the sloppiness of L's rutting, his must be too.

“L,” he ground out, wrenching the other man's head back to stare into his eyes as he came deep into his throat. He could feel L shuddering against him as his own orgasm overtook him, coming with just the touch of Light's foot through his clothes.

Light released L's hair gently as his high came down, trailing his hand down the other man's face to his bruised lips. He grasped his jaw and pulled him up for a deep kiss, tasting himself in L's mouth.

“It'll be lonely, won't it?” L whispered against his lips. Light hummed in question. “You and I will be parting ways soon,” L explained. Light nodded. They both knew it. This was a last hurrah of sorts. L straightened up, adjusting his pants, and held out a hand to Light. He took it, pulling himself to his feet. Light tucked himself away, marvelling at what had just occurred. Were it another life, would he feel less regret? 

“Come on,” L said, turning away. His voice sounded entirely different than it had moments before. “Let's go, Light,”

Light stood on the stairs for a few seconds as he watched L's back retreat. He knew it would be this way. It was always going to be. The game was still on. One of them still had to win. The other had to lose, and Light would be damned if it would be him.


End file.
